


Bright People

by soulofaminaanima



Series: Bright People verse [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Forced Pit Fighting, Gen, Headcanon Yasha backstory, Kord the stormlord, Xorhas life, Yasha pov, Yasha was a soldier, before getting abducted to the underdark, canon up to episode 22, tell me if i forgot to tag something, the traveller - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofaminaanima/pseuds/soulofaminaanima
Summary: Yasha doesn't remember much of her youth at all, actually. All except for the bright people.The bright people, who are the only constant in her entire life, are probably not even real. Their transparent bodies flicker in and out of focus, only to be seen out of the corner of her eyes. They never talk or respond to her, but they seem to live their own lives nonetheless, talking to thin air and interacting with things Yasha cannot see.Aka. Yasha knew the Mighty Nein long before that fateful night in Trostenwald.





	Bright People

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read. Do tell me what grammar mistakes I made, I need to learn.

Yasha doesn't remember her parents much. Just that they took care of her when they had the food to share. New clothing and education was out of the question for most of her first decade alive. She doesn't remember the names or faces of the people in her hometown, these little stone houses hidden away in the mountains with their inhabitants hardened by the environment and absence of protection. 

She doesn't remember much of all that, actually. All except for the bright people.

The bright people, who are the only constant in her entire life, are probably not even real. Their transparent bodies flicker in and out of focus, only to be seen out of the corner of her eyes. They never talk or respond to her, but they seem to live their own lives nonetheless, talking to thin air and interacting with things Yasha cannot see.  
Nobody sees them and no one can explain to her why they are there. They are the only things Yasha remembers from her youth. She asked about them only once, but in her memory her parents stared blankly at her until she dropped the subject. She never spoke about them again. 

There are two who have always been there; two boys, probably a tad older. Yasha isn’t sure, since she doesn't know her own age and they don't look like the other people in her hometown at all.  
The oldest looking boy has jet-black hair and a greenish skin. He has always been a little bit out of focus, running around and ducking behind invisible covers. 

The first time he comes into focus, it’s dead winter and Yasha is sneaking around the big lake near her town looking for anything to eat. She’s investigating a corpse of … something - maybe it was a deer once- and contemplating if it’s worth getting sick from it. As long as the rotten meat will still her ever present hunger, she’s down. As she starts tearing off a piece of meat, the hairs on the back of her neck begin to tickle and she turns around viciously. She’s expecting someone from the village, scolding her for wandering off alone near the forbidden lake. Instead, she sees a young green skinned boy, about her own height and age, standing off to the side facing the lake. And he's veiling his teeth down. 

There's blood running down his chin and Yasha instinctively jumps up. To stop him, or to scare him away, she doesn’t know. "Hey! Stop that!" Yasha yells at him, before shrinking down and guiltily looking around. If they hear her...  
The boy does not react in any way and continues veiling down hit teeth. His only materials are a stone and a sharp shapeless piece of metal. Blood drips down his chin as he spits out another bit of tooth, saliva and more blood. Yasha moves around the corpse to push him instead, but her hands literally move through his shoulder, not making any impact or impression on the boy. 

It scares her a little bit and Yasha jumps back before moving into a more defensive pose; fists raised, bending her knees slightly and balancing on the ball of her feet. This she knows and if the boy tries any other funny business, she’ll be ready. 

He doesn’t do anything, of course. Just continues ignoring her and after a while Yasha walks back towards the carcass. She continues cutting the meat off in smaller pieces until she has enough to keep her at least until tomorrow evening. She can’t bring too much, or others will notice, of course. When she looks up, the boy is gone.

 

Where her green person is all guilty looks and hasty movement out of the corner of her eyes, the redhaired human is warmth and smiles. His clothing is just as bad as hers and he never wears shoes, but his posture is loose and he smiles a lot. Yasha imagines he’s happy, wherever he is.  
Although she never sees people interacting with the bright people, she can imagine someone hugging the human boy, given the way his arm circle around invisible people all the time. Yasha feels a pang of…something whenever she sees him like that. Did her parents do that when she was younger? Not that she can remember.

The human boy first appears at night. Yasha can see him from her shabby cot in the living room. He’s floating a feet or so in the air, sitting on his own bed she supposes. His back is pressed against a body – and it’s weird not to see it – reading a story out loud. Yasha has yet to learn how to read at her age and she wishes she could hear him, but no, the bright people have yet to make any sound. The covers of the books he holds are old, frayed and give nothing away. What kind of stories does he read? Adventures about dragons and knights, or does he like mysteries about the monsters from underground? Whatever he reads, his companions sure seem to like it too; they hug him and pet his hair as he reads to them. Yasha doesn’t know any other kid so affectionate with their parents.

What is also new, is the fire he creates with a snap of his fingers. First, he practices the magic at night and Yasha’s enthralled by the flames that dance around his hands and illuminate her room. Later, he shows it off to people. The human boy soon starts to learn different magic tricks and it’s enthralling to watch. One day, he turns his hair a vibrant shade of blue. The look on his face is priceless; this certainly wasn’t the desired effect the human had hoped for and Yasha has to muffle her smile so her parents won’t look at her weirdly. Whatever the human boy’s appearance is, he’s a bright flame in Yasha’s off kilter life. 

 

The third bright person is also human, a lot younger than the boys and maybe a little bit younger than Yasha, but she can’t say this for sure.

Whenever they appear, they– the human doesn’t look extremely masculine, or feminine –look either incredibly filthy, or incredibly clean. The first time Yasha sees them, the human is covered in sand, twigs and bruises. Their eyes shine the brightest blue Yasha has ever seen, with a smile that could match her magic-user’s. It looks like they toppled down a hill. Or two, maybe. (Yasha will soon learn it’s not uncommon to have this ever moving person appear somewhere mid-air and have them fall face first on the stony landscape of Xorhas.)  
The second appearance, Yasha had to do a doubletake to recognise the human; with clothing that seems very expensive, but somehow ill-fitting and washed and combed hair it gives such a different appearance. They smile politely, but their posture gives them away: they hate it. Wherever they are, this human wants to be gone from there. 

Yasha can relate and wonders if they could switch, just for a day. To see on the other side and find out what is it that makes her see them all. What is so important about these people? Every time she finds herself in the company of the younger human, she wonders why looking at them feels so special.

 

For a few years, it’s just the three of them: 

The green boy, who’s starting to grow taller than the other two and who is, as Yasha learns, an Half-orc. He trains with swords and shields these days, but he isn’t very good at it -yet- . His invisible opponents keep hitting him as he moves too slow.  
The human boy seems to be reading more and more as his magic grows. He smiles less, but his physique grows stronger and Yasha hopes he now has food that will sustain him in is pursuit for magic. Yasha knows nothing of magic, but it seems to drain the boy as much as fighting does to her.

The young human… girl(?) - the more Yasha sees them, the more she’s convinced it’s a girl - has also started training for something. Instead of the formal unfitting, or the baggy clothes, she now wears things in blue tints. She fights without weapons, with movement Yasha has never seen before. The girl seems more at ease these days, but still bored out of her mind. There are many days where Yasha will find her human girl sitting cross-legged in a meditating position, but sound asleep. 

All of them are growing up, learning in their own ways. And Yasha? Yasha gets drawn into the army. 

Xorhas doesn’t care if you’re fourteen or forty, if you’re able to pick up a sword, you’re taken in. After the rough living in the mountain village Yasha’s muscles have grown taut. The soldiers on horseback ask her how old she is. 

“I don’t know.” Yasha answers truthfully. She doesn’t like the way the soldiers stare down at the folk in the town. Her fists are balled and she stares straight ahead as they take her, along with eight other to-be soldiers. Most of them die before they reach their destination; killed in a nightly attack by monsters from below.

 

Yasha’s scared the bright people won’t follow her to her new residence. The barracks of the training compound the soldiers drop her off is miles away from the village. Yet the bright people find her. There’s even a new face among them: a blue girl with horns and a tail. Yasha has never seen a person like that and the girl fascinates her immensely, but she can’t be too distracted during her training. Yasha settles for glancing at the drawings the new girl seems to make while she animatedly talks to someone.  
It’s weird how she can see the materials the bright people are holding or wearing, but never more. Yasha cranes her neck to see the now finished drawing of the blue girl while she hits targets of straw with her wooden sword. Soon they’ll give her a real sword and Yasha wonders if the bright half-orc has gotten a real sword too yet. 

Yasha likes the blue girl a lot; she animates when she talks and she wears the prettiest clothes Yasha has ever seen. Her brightly- coloured dresses swirl around her frame as she dances around the barracks. Even here, none of the people Yasha shares her space with seem to notice it when the blue one dances through their sleeping forms in the bunk beds.  
It’s a distraction easily welcomed; her human magic user has been acting weird lately. Ever since Yasha started training here he has refused to use magic, study his books or do basically anything at all. Whenever he appears – which is far less than she’s used to – his frame looks frail and he’s lost a lot of weight again. His empty eyes stare off into space and Yasha wonders if he’s alright. 

So now it’s the four: two humans, a half-orc and the blue girl with horns. They visit her frequently and she gets to see most of them at least twice a week. They follow her out of the barracks, all the way down to the mining tunnels they send her to. It’s her job now to defend the entrances against whatever tries to fight itself to the surface. Sometimes, they send a team down deeper; a precaution method. It’s better to kill anything before it reaches the light, to minimise the chance of the monster’s escape into the world above. Yasha notices she’s able to see enemies approach before any of the other soldiers do. The darkness doesn’t bother her as much as it does for them. It helps her a lot, but it’s not always enough. As she makes more trips down there, she burns through three teams of soldiers. They all die below the earth, their bodies left behind, probably to be eaten by whatever monster killed them. 

The blue girl dances around the rocky tunnels as Yasha’s team fights one of the giant worms. The human man stares at the walls as she keeps watch at the gates. The blue clothed human practices her poses as Yasha scouts out ahead. Her half orc pulls on ropes and carries crates as the arrows fly around her ears. As more soldiers in Yasha’s group die, more get brought in. There is a bigger difference between the newcomers and herself. She’s taller and stronger now and Yasha wonders if she ever looked this frail. 

Yasha had hoped to keep a few of the new soldiers alive, but it doesn’t matter now. Raiders from the Underground come and kill her new team. It makes her angry, angrier than she’s ever been, seeing the lifeless forms of the other soldiers. Not even considered adults yet, she thinks. The light around her dims and she feels a presence of something behind her, but she doesn’t care. If someone’s going to hit her from behind, that’s alright. Yasha just focusses on slashing enemy to enemy, taking as many of these fuckers with her before she dies. 

Her clothes are covered in blood, that of others and herself. Her left shoulder looks like a pincushion; there are too many arrows sticking out of her side. The blood of a nasty cut above her right eye prevents her from seeing the killing blow that hits her from the side. Yasha tries to find one of the bright people, but her vision blurs and she loses consciousness.

The cell – Yasha has no other way to describe the room they keep her in – has bars instead of a door. It gives her a perfect view of the room arcos the corridor. The other room is empty most of the time. They keep her away from other people for some reason, but sometimes she can hear movement down to the right. Most days she doesn’t see anybody, except the bright people, of course.  
They’ve taken over her neighbouring cell and appear to be living their lives as if nothing’s wrong. As if Yasha’s life hasn’t been turned over. Or maybe it was never alright to begin with. Do they see her too? Do they know she’s locked away and fighting for her life? Maybe they’ve all found each other long ago and are now living their lives together.  
Underground, the days turn into weeks, into years. Yasha’s hair grows longer and her clothing begins to fray. Every few days, they’ll push her in this arena and make her fight other things. Sometimes there are other surface dwellers; caught and trapped down here like she is. She hates killing them, but she knows it’s either them or her. The people who watch on the benches above the ring don’t like it when they don’t fight. Other times, she is faced against monsters from down below. The giant worms are easy; a known enemy, but other creatures are difficult.  
The wings do help her. Yasha has no idea where they came from, but sometimes, after a good night rest she can scare her enemies in the pit with the featherless wings adorning her back. Her anger helps too and of that she has plenty to spare. The fights never seem to be no end; the crowd seems to like her and there’s always a group of people watching her fight. Yasha hates it, hates the attention and the loud sounds they make.  
Yasha gets to keep some of the things her defeated enemies have. She takes the bloody boots of a Drow when hers start to fall apart. The cloak of a troll is placed in the corner of her cell; it stinks, but it keeps her warm. She takes a silver coin from a dwarf from the surface; its pattern of four lightning strikes moving outward feels warm in the palm of her hand. She doesn’t know what it means, but she keeps it hidden on her.

Yasha gets to know two more bright people in her time underground. The first one is a little goblin, so tiny Yasha almost misses her in the large arena. To be fair, her attention was more focussed on the giant minotaur storming towards her. The second time she sees the tiny goblin -also in the arena- Yasha sees her immediately and it almost becomes fatal. Too focussed on the cowering form of the girl, she completely misses the Drow attacking her from above. Yasha still wins, scaring the Drow away with the wings before retaliating with her own attacks. The crowd loves it and yell and chant in unison in a language Yasha cannot understand.  
“I hope you’re happy.” Yasha says to the goblin girl when she’s brought back to her cell. The wound on her hip throbs horribly, even after she healed herself with the weird white light that resonates from her fingertips sometimes. The goblin girl ignores her and continues collecting invisible firewood off the stone floor of the neighbouring cell.  
They all grow older: the human woman trains and fights her way through life and the goblin girl grows a little bit, but she’s still tiny compared to the other goblins Yasha sees. The magic user stares at walls and ignores everything else and it turns out the blue girl also knows some form of magic: the tips of her fingers light up whenever she touches someone. Yasha has some idea what it does, but the healing magic works more frequent for her blue friend than it does for her. The day Yasha wakes up to her cell being filled with two feet of ghost water is a scary one. The half orc floats face down in her cell and Yasha is confronted with the idea of them all dying. He gains consciousness and Yasha can see a nasty looking cut on his forehead that will certainly scar. He disappears again right before they take her out of her cell, towards the fighting pit.  
She doesn’t see the half orc a lot in the weeks after his near-drowning, but he has a sword now. A real one that seems to be perfectly balanced for him; a lot better than the crude things they give Yasha down here. It even has magic and there are many evenings where he’s fighting invisible monsters. The sea water waves around in her cell and keeps Yasha up well into the night; concerned for his safety as his life seems to be turned upside down for some reason.  
The other thing that surprises her is the cat. There’s a cat in her cell. A bright person cat; his lithe form walks through the bars and walls of the place. She has yet to fully wake up and the shimmering light of his body is annoyingly distracting. The thought that she has not seen a cat in what feels like decades hits her hard and she feels a sudden pang of…something.  
“Oh, damn you..” Yasha mumbles as she sits up. The cat turns his head around and stares at her. Yasha freezes, her hands hovering above her boots.  
“Can you…can you see me?” The cat flicks his tail before walking away through the wall of her cell. Yes, the cat is unnerving, but the red haired wizard loves him, so Yasha cannot complain.

The other newcomer enters her cell years later. Yasha doesn’t know how long it’s been since she last saw the sky, but she longs for it. Yearns for the smell of trees, the feel of soft sand and the sound of the rain. Time is hard to track, although Yasha has some idea of time, - the bright people seem to settle down for the night in regular intervals – her sleep rhythm depends on when they let her sleep and when they make her fight.  
The purple guy crawls up out of the stonework while Yasha receives a barely fulfilling meal. She eyes the guards; still no reaction from other people, so this purple one that looks a lot like her blue friend is another bright one. His hair is long and his clothes are dirty and he seemed to have literally clawed his way through the earth. His ribs poke through as breathes deep and stares at the sky for what seems like eternity. He’s still there when she leaves for the fighting pits and she finds him still sitting in her cell when she returns hours later.  
The purple one mumbles, one word, over and over again. Yasha wishes she could hear him, hug him and protect him. Yet, she’s stuck down here and he’s on the surface, somewhere. It frustrates her to no end, she can feel the rage simmering underneath her skin.  
Yasha settles down next to the purple one. Even though she cannot offer him comfort; she has a feeling she’ll be rubbish at that anyway, but at least she can be close to him. Maybe it’s the fact that this purple one seems to have accomplish what Yasha has been dreaming of for years: escape the earth. Maybe she’s just as lonely as her new bright person seems to be, but she wants to help him.  
“Please let me fight. Let me fight for him.” She thinks as she falls asleep next to the mumbling person. “I’ll do whatever, as long as I can protect him. Give me a chance to protect and prove myself for them. They are my everything and I’ll do everything for them.”

In her dreams, she walks through a storm. The lightning shows her the ragged mountain tops around her old village. She knows she must be close to the shelter of the stone houses, but she cannot remember which way to go. It’s been so long and finding her old home is hard-  
No, not towards her old home; that place was never home, she has to go somewhere else. Yasha feels the pull of something to the lands behind her and she turns around. Standing there, in the pouring rain and howling winds is a figure. His twenty feet appearance lights up in the howling storm and he moves slow; pointing a finger in her direction.  
“Prove. Prove yourself to me, if you think that you’re worthy.”  
Yasha feels her wings expanding against her will, they catch in the wind and almost pull her to the ground. A longsword lies at her feet and she feels herself reaching for it. The moment she does, the storm attacks.  
With loud bangs and flashes of lighting monsters appear. Some, she has fought before, but many are unnatural and unknown. Horses of wind and water, soldiers made of ice and snow and spiders made of clouds and lightning attack her all at once. The first few attacks hit her hard and she gets pushed away by a shock of lightning before she lands hard on the ground.  
“You said you wanted to protect them? How can you do that if you’re weak.”  
The loud voice of the god – because, what else could this be – booms around all around her. Yasha cannot see him anymore, but she feels him all around her, as if he’s the storm itself.  
“I’ll do it. Whatever is needed.” is her only answer before standing up and facing the army again.

 

It must’ve been only hours later when she feels herself being pulled out of the dream. The old coin she stole years ago from a dwarf burns bright on her skin. She pulls it out of her clothing and drops it on the ground. The four bolts of lightning shine a bright blue light in het cell.  
Yasha wonders what it all meant, but she does feel stronger somehow. The strain of fighting everyday on an empty stomach seems dulled. Her muscles feel more relaxed than in years and her mind is clear; ready to jump into action.  
Action happens when, moments later, a guard comes to fetch her for a next fight. Yasha moves careful, not wanting to project her plans, before jumping the man and forcing him to the ground with a heavy punch to his left temple. She steals his short sword and uses it to stab a second and a third guard that come rushing in. From there on out; Yasha runs for het life.

 

The way up is difficult. Going too fast might have her rushing into unwanted company of dwelling monsters. Moving too slow will certainly have her pursuers catch her. The six bright people follow her around wherever she goes. They walk alongside her, as if they know she needs their glowing light to guide her. None of them but the cat acknowledge her, his reflective eyes stare at her as he sits on top of the human’s shoulders.  
She almost gives up. Knowing her new god will hate it if she does, but not offer any more help, it’s hard to stop, but even harder to continue. Delirious from malnutrition and lack of sleep, she forces herself to set another step. And another. Another. She has no energy to defend herself as she spots something green moving out of the corner of her eye. Of all the bright people, only the blue girl visited her today for a short while. The tunnel is dark and Yasha has trouble finding a way through. She stands at a crossroad, not knowing which way will lead her to freedom.

“Come. This way.”

A voice calls out to her, the musical cadence gets her to raise her head. Twenty feet ahead stands a cloaked figure. His transparent form shines a dim light on their surroundings and it makes the shadowy cavern look less threatening somehow.  
“Are… are you a bright…person?” she mumbles, her voice croaking from disuse. She can barely keep standing up straight, but she refuses to let the cloaked figure step out of her periphery. 

“No, but that is a fitting name for them.” 

His lulled voice carries across the stones. He opens his hand towards her, beckons her to follow him before he steps around a corner.  
Slowly, Yasha follows the figure around the tunnel, ignoring the track to her left. When she gets around it, the green cloaked one is gone. 

 

Yasha travels to new lands and enjoys everything the wilderness has to offer her. She has yet to enter a town, but she’s scared something will go wrong. She came close to visiting one, maybe about a week ago. The only thing that scared her off were these big tents with lots of people inside. Sounds of laughter and conversation had wafted out of the open flaps and it made the hairs on her neck tingle. She left immediately.  
Talking to people turns out to be much more difficult after going without human communication for so long. Maybe not calling it ‘human communication’ is a great step in the right direction, but Yasha feels no need to hurry. She’s contempt with her life, sometimes she could even say happy.  
The purple one is happier too. He has stopped mumbling and started talking properly. His new clothes fit him better somehow; the bright colours resonate with his personality. They look better than the old scraps Yasha first saw him in.  
Currently, Yasha’s taking the last preparations for her campsite tonight while enjoying some kind of private show into the evening of the purple one. He dances gracefully on top of a - invisible- table, singing loudly and although Yasha can’t hear it, she imagines it sounding awfully slurred. He’s manoeuvring around something – tankards of ale, maybe- as he ties a colourful piece of clothing around his shoulders. The yellow and orange match horribly with his skin tone as the- hey, wait a minute!  
Yasha perks up from her resting spot near the campfire; she’s seen those stripes before! The weird tents she saw last week had similar coloured flags on top and though it’s a far shot, Yasha’s up and moving in under five minutes. She walks through the night and the day to find the tents again.  
Situated on the edge of a small village, the orange-yellow flags wave softly in the cold evening breeze. Maybe these flags are created en masse in this country, but Yasha has hope. She has never imagined meeting any of her bright people. What if they don’t like her? Yasha knows she’s not the easiest person to be around. Just because she feels like she knows these bright people as if they were her best friends, doesn’t mean they’ll feel the same. 

Yasha settles in the grass sixty feet or so away from the tents. She wonders if meeting a bright person is even a smart idea; what if she misunderstood the Stormlord? “Protect them”, could mean two very different things: protect the bright people from the world, or protect the world from the bright people.  
The human fighter sleeps on the ground a few feet away from her. Yasha throws small stones through her transparent form as she contemplates her next step. 

 

“So you have been following me around for a while now. Care for a reading?” The purple one holds up his stack of cards, not even looking over his shoulder as he walks down the narrow street.  
Yasha’s first instinct is to duck away out of his sight, but the sound of his voice has her enthralled. It’s weird to finally have a voice connected to the person she has been seeing the past year and a half. Ducking away has no use anyway, he’s smarter than that: the narrow alley is barren from any hiding places.  
“Do you know me?” is the first thing she asks. It’s not the most tactful question, but Yasha wants to know it, more than anything. If they see her just as she sees them.  
“No, not yet anyway,” the purple one, Mollymauk as he introduced himself to the tavern, answers her. “But I imagine I will, as soon as you let me read your fortunes.” His eyebrow curves upwards, suggestive as always.  
Yasha knows his readings are fake, has seen him fold the cards to his liking one too many times. She remembers it when he, only a year ago, used to stumble and drop the stack while training. She contains her smile and sits down in the middle of the alleyway.  
Mollymauk sits cross-legged in front of her and shuffles his deck of cards. Their friendship might’ve begun over a year ago, but this meeting feels like a great start of something new. 

Seven months with the circus have changed Yasha more than she ever thought it could. First she stayed only for Mollymauk, but she’s starting to really like all the other things too. The freedom of still moving around, but also the stability of a group she gets to know. She still leaves them from time to time, of course. The closeness can get on her nerves, but nobody seems to mind it when she takes her leave. Sometimes Kord asks her to do things for him; run errands, kill monsters and prove herself in anyway possible. Sometimes, she’ll leave and try to find other bright people. It’s easier now, not only does she know it’s possible, but the bright people have teamed up also.  
It was weird to see them interact with others; for as long as Yasha can remember the bright people only talked to invisible ones. 

The goblin girl and the human magic user met six months ago and have been inseparable ever since. The cat also flickers in and out of appearance , always aware she’s watching. The half orc and the blue tiefling met just over a month ago and this morning the two of them met the human monk in some kind of big fight.  
In fact, all of them had been fighting something today as Yasha helped set up the tents near a new town. “Trostenwald”, Molly told her while feeding the horses. He completely ignored the arrow from the goblin that went right through his arm. Yasha sidestepped a ball of fire at the same moment, more out of habit than an actual fear of getting hit.  
“Why do you keep doing that?” Molly asks her.

“Just…you know? …careful.” Yasha mumbles, quickly picking of a sack of poles to carry off. She had no idea how to explain the bright people to her new friend, though she believed he had the right to know. But how do you explain all that to someone?  
“The reason I found you was because the spectral forms I call bright people led me out of hell. Oh, and by the way, these bright people look and act just like you and I’m pretty sure I watched you crawl out of your grave.” That’s a big nope. Yasha might lack a lot of social skills, but there’s no way someone could pull that off.  
It might be easier if they’d meet the other bright people. The spectral form of Molly never appeared when she’s with the circus. If she could get close to the other bright people, she could try and convince them to stay too. Or she could just ask Molly to do the convincing part..

But what are the odds of meeting all of them, right?

Right?


End file.
